24 November 2011

The bunch. We ate at my parents' and the Evans joined us. My dad made the turkey, and took out some dark meat and added some "King Noah" spices. What are King Noah spices? Ask him. But I can tell you they are good.

Mum and Ruthie

Dad and John

Jude was content to eat puffs, yams, and he somehow got some ice cream. SOMEhow.

The Apple Pie. It turned out the way it was supposed to, which is pretty awesome for me on the first try if I can pat my own back, but it was way more fun to make it than to eat it. Ruthie's tasted better.

We got home and unleashed my dream-come-trues. The tree is a little crooked but we're working on it. Jude started to -- you guessed it -- try to eat the star, so we hurried and topped our slanted tree.

"I now declare this bridge, OPEN!" 10 points if you know what I just quoted.

21 November 2011

I don't know what's going on this year, maybe the fact that I've been so busy wrestling my baby to the ground and pinning him there every time he needs his diaper or outfit changed (both are much more frequently needed than I'd like to say), but Thanksgiving has crept up ever so quickly.

I barely noticed a few days ago that THIS FRIDAY, I am well within my rights to make merry. I can patiently wait until then. Praises be!

Saturday we bought our tree; it's waiting to be assembled.
We bought a tree skirt. We also bought a tree topper.
And I hauled out from the garage all of the ornaments and decorations I've bought at After-Christmas sales and hoarded away for the past 3 years; Jeff had no idea! (We didn't decorate last year too much; I was too pregnant/bump-on-a-log-ish/grouchy.)
Since I'm not willing to risk Jeff scaling the roof to put up lights, I'm not sure what's going to happen on the exterior. We do have a lit wreath.

Just thinking about all these things makes my eyes well up with tears; I am counting the blessing of blessings that it is to share this holiday with my two best boys.

17 November 2011

5 points if you can spot his 2 bottom teeth and the drool splatters on the floor.

whackwhackwhackwhackwhackwhack

A little blurry, but that face just kills me.

As does that little bum wiggling around while he crawls.

"Want one, Mom? No? Good, because I have no concept of sharing right now. Remember that one time Dad was about to put my binky in my mouth and then stuck it in his own as a joke? Yeah, I screamed my head off. I'm glad we can look back and laugh."

14 November 2011

Jude started crawling last week and has fallen in love with door stoppers. Whichever room I may have plopped him in, it takes about 10 seconds to start hearing the BOING BOING BOING until he pulls it off and starts whacking it against the wall.

He's got a couple of teeth and a few more still making their way.

I was making dinner last week and had him in his high chair. I'd sprinkle some Puffs onto his tray and he'd go at them like he hadn't eaten in about 5 years. He'd get a handful and before he could put them in his mouth he'd see more on the other side of the tray and grab those. After the dust settled he'd just have a bunch of soggy Puffs stuck to his hands, maybe 3 having made it into his tummy. Time to sprinkle more Puffs.

His drool officially broke my phone. It works out great for him because now that it's completely kaput, he has himself his dream toy and my new phone won't arrive at my doorstep for 2 weeks. I thought the iPhone craze was over and everyone standing in line outside the Apple stores would have been satisfied by now. Nope. So this is a sidenote: if you need to get ahold of me, email is the only way to go until further notice.

His personality becomes bigger and bigger all the time; I must be his mom because I am so enthralled. I am forced to stop in the middle of the grocery aisle and attack him with kisses, because he pulls the funniest, sweetest things out of his hat and I just can't stand it. And he loves me, too. We do appreciate all the love he gives back, it really does go a long, long way.

12 November 2011

This means I have lost at least 51 pounds, probably more because I stopped weighing myself the last few weeks of pregnancy.

I am excited and proud (toot toot that horn!), but I'm almost more horrified that I had that much chub to lose, for I so very much brought that on myself. And I'm still working on reaching my Zen about the fact that pregnancy is a thing that I'm not done with; I'll do this again and again over the next several years. Thank goodness the most delightsome small friends are the reasons for the jiggly-quality of a mother's body.

This week Jeff and I had a good laugh for about 10 minutes walking down memory lane, the lane of Meredith's Non-Stop Pregnancy Eating. I really thought I wasn't that bad at the time, that this weight was just mysteriously accumulating because the Universe was out to get me, but in hindsight, I know different. Now I remember Coney Island Footlong Hot Dogs at Sonic, entire boxes of Christmas Chocolate Covered Jo-Jos from Trader Jo's, Orange Juice by the gallon, Peanut Butter Smoothies, I could go on. And on.

However, I have hope that next time it will be different. (I say that like it's out of my hands completely. Ha!) Here's to the next 9 pounds, may they hit the road with more running and fewer treats, which is another blog post for another day.